


Rust and Stardust

by patchfire, raving_liberal



Series: Rust and Stardust [1]
Category: Glee, Rambling Wrecks
Genre: Alternate Universe, Consent Issues, Disturbing Themes, Hiding the Bodies, Hospitalization, Kidnapping, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mildly Dubious Consent, Minor Character Death, Murder, Police, Psychological Horror, References to Suicide, Road Trips, Running Away, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-29
Updated: 2013-06-29
Packaged: 2017-12-16 14:36:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/863123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchfire/pseuds/patchfire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal/pseuds/raving_liberal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dave's impulse control is shattered, their world narrows to a stack of blankets, a blue Chevrolet truck, and a series of cheap motels. Casey, <i>qu'ai-je fait de ta vie?</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The One With the Cans

**Author's Note:**

> The following began as an Story of Three Boys AU starting from [Statistic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/310625/chapters/497408) [February 20, 2012], but sort of kept going into its own little world.

The ambulance pulls into the bay at St. Rita’s, and the doors open into a flurry of activity. The EMT hops out and starts to slide the stretcher, and Dave realizes with a literal jerk that he’s taken Casey’s hand. He releases it and then climbs out of the ambulance, intent on following Casey wherever they are taking him. The EMT and some other guys in scrubs roll the stretcher in through the doors and then the EMT stops, putting a hand on Dave’s shoulder to keep him from following the stretcher through the next set of double doors.

“They’re not gonna let you back there,” the EMT says, “and you don’t need to see it, anyway.”

Dave stares at the swinging doors as a nurse comes out and looks at him. “You need to go around to the waiting room,” he informs Dave briskly. “It’ll be several hours, though.”

Several hours. Dave curls his hands into fists as the nurse apparently thinks his job is done, leaving without another look back at Dave. Dave does go around to the waiting room, where a different nurse tells him that apart from it being several hours before they’ll have an update, it’ll be even longer before Casey can have any visitors. 

They can’t give Dave any information on his condition, because he’s not Casey’s _parent_. Even though Casey’s parents are worthless. If Casey hadn’t called Dave, Casey would have died, right there on his bed, while his mother was in the next room. 

Before Dave can think about what he’s doing, he leaves the hospital, first walking fast, then jogging through downtown Lima, before running back towards Casey’s house, back towards his truck and back towards useless Amy. 

When he gets to Casey’s, breathing heavily, the door is still askew, and Dave pounds on the frame, waiting for Amy to come to the door. Her face appears in the gap between the door and the frame after just a moment.

“It’s you,” she says, sounding startled. 

“Yeah, it’s me,” Dave growls. “Let me in. I have a few things to say to you.”

“You can’t come in here,” Amy says. “I don’t know how I’m going to explain this to Mick. I already had to talk to the police. You need to leave.”

“Casey would have _died_ ,” Dave says, pushing on the door. “Are you going to explain the missing bottle of Jack to Mick, too?”

“Is he going to be okay?” Amy asks, taking a few fast steps backward, away from the door and Dave. “The paramedics, they took care of him, didn’t they? They told me I had to wait for a phone call, but I haven’t heard anything yet.”

Dave walks in, shaking his head. “ _Now_ you worry about him. Not when he doesn’t have enough to eat, or warm clothes to wear, or the chance of feeling safe at home. But now.”

“You don’t know,” Amy protests. “You don’t know anything about our lives. You don’t know what it’s like! I do the best I can by him, I swear it.” She keeps walking backwards, her hands up in front of her in defense. 

“You could have left Mick!” Dave says, advancing on her, feeling his rage build. “You could have gone to a food pantry. Fuck knows there are places that help. But you didn’t do any of that. You just let Mick hit him, again and again!”

“I did the best I could!” Amy says. “I try to protect him, but he provokes him! He knows Mick has a temper!”

“He’s not even sixteen yet!” Dave roars, grabbing Amy by the shoulders. He shakes her for a second, trying to figure out how to make her understand before he gives up and shoves her, hard, against the wall. 

As she moves backwards, Amy’s foot catches on one of Mick’s shoes, and she trips, falling sideways. Her head catches on the corner of the wall where the living room and kitchen meet, and there’s a squishy crunch before she falls the rest of the way to the floor. She doesn’t move, her eyes staring up at Dave, and Dave shakes his head, waiting for her to say something else. When the silence stretches, he looks back at her.

“Shit,” he whispers as he realizes that she’s not breathing. Something in the fall killed her. He can’t quite bring himself to be sorry, though, not after the way that she treated Casey for so many years. 

Mick’ll be blamed, Dave thinks, and even better if—well. He’s just killed one person, even though it was accidental. Mick deserves it even more. He just needs a little help. 

He pulls out his phone and scrolls through his contacts, discarding most of them as possibilities, and walks into Amy and Mick’s bedroom. If he grabs some of Mick’s clothes and puts them in a duffel bag, he can leave it with Mick’s body. 

Finally he settles on who to call and presses the name, listening to the phone ring. 

“Hello?” a voice that’s only barely recognizable as Hudson’s croaks into the phone.

“I need your help, Hudson,” Dave says. “I, uh. Made a little trouble, and I’m gonna take care of a few more things.”

“Huh?” Hudson sounds kind of out of it. “What kind of help?”

“Casey... Casey’s in the hospital. St. Rita’s. He took some stuff, his dad beat him up, I don’t know what all, Hudson. But I came over here to yell at his mom, and uh. She’s kind of dead now.”

Hudson coughs loudly a few times before he says, in a low voice, “Shit, Karofsky. What did you do?”

“I just pushed her! I just wanted her to leave Mick, you know. So Casey didn’t have to come _back_ to this. And then she told me Casey _provokes_ Mick, and I just... I pushed her. And now she’s dead. So I figure, fuck. I’m going to take care of Mick. Then he can’t hurt Casey again, ever.”

There’s a long pause where Hudson doesn’t say anything, then he starts coughing again and keeps coughing for almost a full minute. When he finally stops, he says, “Ok. How can I help?”

“You got pneumonia or something?” Dave asks. “Alibi, really. I can’t look up stuff and drive and have a good alibi. Right?”

“Right,” Hudson says. “And yeah, something like pneumonia. Alright, so... hey, you still on Call of Duty?”

“Yeah,” Dave answers, a little surprised at the question.

“What’s your login? I’ll set you up my laptop and I’ll login on my mom's, and I’ll just go back and forth,” Hudson explains, punctuating his words with random coughs. “Then it’ll look like you were logged in at the same time as me and we were both playing. That’s something? Right?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s good,” Dave agrees, finishing packing the duffel. He smashes a couple of glasses and pours out another bottle of Jack before leaving the O’Brien house, giving Hudson his login information as he climbs into the truck. There’s no one on the street to notice him driving away. “And then I need the address for Mick’s job, I guess,” he adds, telling Hudson what he can remember about where Mick works.

“I’ll look it up on my iPad,” Hudson says, and after another round of coughs, he rattles off an address, followed by some quick directions. “And, uh... good luck, man. This is some heavy shit, but I get it. You’ve gotta take care of your people.”

“Yeah. Exactly.” Dave navigates towards the address Hudson gave him, careful not to exceed the speed limit. “Makes me want to go after Jojo and Fordham too, if I’m honest.”

First Hudson coughs, and then he asks, “Dave... is Casey gonna be ok?”

“They won’t tell me anything,” Dave admits. “I’m not his _parent_.”

“Fuck. How bad did it look?”

“He took some kind of prescription thing, some Jack, and he was beaten up pretty bad,” Dave says, easing into the parking lot and noting Mick’s truck is the only other vehicle in the lot. He sits in the truck for a second, listening to Hudson cough. He didn’t think this through very well, but maybe there’s a gun or something in the office. If he can just surprise Mick, it shouldn’t be too hard.

“Is he gonna die?” Hudson asks quietly.

“I don’t know, man. I just don’t know.” Dave squeezes his eyes shut. 

“Then you fucking kill that bastard. Far as I’m concerned, you’ve been here all afternoon.”

“Thanks. I’ll call you after.” Dave ends the call and drops the phone on his seat, climbing out of the truck.

He opens the door as quietly as he can, scanning the interior. Mick is sitting with his feet up on the counter as he reads something, and Dave crosses the distance as quickly as he can, knocking Mick’s feet off the counter and pushing them upward as he punches Mick in the jaw. Mick lets out a muffled yelp as he falls off his seat and onto the ground. 

“I’m gonna be the last thing you ever see,” Dave informs Mick almost conversationally, putting a foot on Mick’s chest as he looks around the room. 

“What the fuck’re you doing?” Mick chokes out. “Let me up.”

“I’m going to kill you. You’ve spent your life hitting him and probably her, and now? You’re going to die.” Dave grins when he spots a box of some kind under the counter, and he reaches over to pull out a drawer that, sure enough, has a gun and ammunition in it. “You’re going to shoot yourself, actually.”

“The hell I am,” Mick says. He struggles, trying to free himself from Dave’s foot. “Going to fucking kill _you_ , is what I’m going to do. Fucking faggot, turning my boy queer.”

Dave slides his foot up to rest against Mick’s neck, pressing down. “This fucking faggot’s _still_ going to be the last thing you see, Mick.” He checks the gun and leans down, grabbing Mick’s face with one hand, forcing Mick’s hand around the gun with the other. Mick struggles even more frantically. In one motion, Dave, moves his hand and foot, and forces Mick’s finger to pull the trigger, the gun just a few inches from Mick’s head. 

The sound is loud, a lot louder than Dave expected, and it’s a lot messier than Dave expected, too, even after watching television shows. He lets go of Mick and watches Mick’s arm fall, hand still around the gun. Dave drops the duffel, kicking it under the counter, and runs out to the truck. He’s going to have to go home and change clothes. What he said to Hudson was true, though. Now he wants to get Jojo and Fordham. Hurt everyone that ever hurt Casey, because they don’t deserve to live. 

He parks in the garage so no one sees him, stopping by the washer machine and putting his clothes straight into it before heading to the guest room shower, washing off all of Mick’s blood. Once he’s clean, he puts on fresh clothes, grabs a second set of clothes, just in case, and moves his now blood-free clothes to the dryer, then picks up his phone and calls St. Rita’s. 

“I need to check on the status of Casey O’Brien,” he says as soon as the receptionist in the ER answers.

“Hold on a moment,” the receptionist says, and then there’s a long pause. Dave can hear typing in the background. “Are you his parent or legal guardian?”

Dave grins to himself. “Yeah, I’m his dad, but I’m stuck at work for a few more hours.”

There’s another long pause, then receptionist says, “Sir, we really need you or your wife to come in as soon as possible. There’s some... paperwork that we need you to fill out.”

“One of us will be there as soon as we can,” Dave answers. “But can you tell me how my, uh, son’s doing? And can I add people to the list of authorized visitors?”

“He’s regained consciousness, but he’s very disoriented, and they’re still assessing him and running some tests. It would help if he had someone here with him,” the receptionist explains. “We’ll be moving him to a room shortly. Who did you wish to add?”

“Oh, his friend Dave. David Karofsky.” Dave moves around the kitchen, grabbing a pop and heating some egg rolls. They’re nice and portable. “He can be there a lot sooner than us.”

“Okay, we’ll put him down, but I really do urge you to be here as soon as you can. The doctors have some questions, and we don’t have his medical history. He’s not in good shape, Mr. O’Brien. Please take this situation very seriously.”

“I will.” Dave swallows. “We will.” He ends the call before they can ask any more questions, and he takes his mostly-dry clothes up to his room, realizing he’s been home a lot longer than he thought at first. He’s torn between going ahead and visiting Casey and taking care of Jojo and Fordham. If he finishes the job, he won’t have to leave Casey again, and that seems like a damn good idea. 

Dave checks the garage and finds some really old rope. The ends are fraying, but there’s newer rope, so his dad won’t miss it, and there’s no way anyone’s going to trace rope that is at least a decade old back to Dave. He climbs in the truck and calls Hudson again. 

“I need an address or two,” Dave says as soon as Hudson answers.

Hudson coughs a few times, then asks, “Order of preference?”

“I was thinking Jojo might take a long, long trip in the quarry.”

“He never did learn,” Hudson says. “You doing ok, dude?”

“Talked to the hospital, pretended to be Mick. Casey’s awake. I just need to take care of this before I go see him, so I don’t have to leave once I get there.”

“Yeah, I totally understand. Thank god he’s awake, though! You need anything else from me besides the gaming?” Hudsons asks him. 

“I... you know, I’ll bring some food by. After Jojo.” Dave grins. “Be thinking about what all of you might want.”

“Will do,” Hudson says, and coughs some more. “Maybe bring me back something hot to drink.”

“You got it,” Dave agrees. “I’ll call after Jojo’s taken care of.” Dave ends the call and parks in front of Jojo’s house. It doesn’t look like anyone’s home, really, and Dave hopes that means it’s just him and Jojo. He climbs out, shoving the rope in his pocket, and heads to the front door to knock. 

Jojo opens the door, and when he sees Dave, he blanches. “What’re you doing here?”

“Taking care of a rubbish problem,” Dave says, pushing his way inside and shutting the door. “You’re part of that problem.”

Jojo looks like he’s about to answer, but then his eyes widen, and he turns and tries to run. Dave reaches out and grabs Jojo’s shoulder, slamming him against the wall. 

“You’re big, but I’m still bigger,” Dave says, with a grin, pulling out the rope and quickly wrapping it around Jojo’s neck. “You’re just not worth much,” he explains, tightening the rope. “Not worth a bullet. Not worth cleaning up the blood. How long before they even miss you, Jojo?”

Jojo can’t answer, because he’s too busy trying to gasp for air he’s not going to get, and his eyes finally start to roll back into his head, his face turning purple. 

“So sad,” Dave says quietly once Jojo is still. He gets a jacket out of the Jojo family coat closet and stuffs Jojo into it before quietly carrying Jojo out to the truck, making sure the door locks behind him. The quarry’ll be closed for the holiday, and it’s all too easy for Dave to drive in, tie a few rocks to Jojo, and send him to the bottom of the runoff pond. Dave dusts his hands off and climbs back into his truck, calling Hudson again. 

“What kind of food would you like?” he asks cheerfully.

“I’d kill for a burger,” Hudson says, then he goes quiet for a moment before he starts to laugh and cough. “You know what I mean.”

“Burgers and fries comin’ up,” Dave laughs. “Be there in about twenty.”

“Get bacon on Puck’s.”

“Bacon on Puck’s, got it—wait, Puck’s at your house?”

“Yeah, dude, we’ve all got the flu,” Hudson says, like it should have been obvious. “Me, him, and Kurt.”

“Huh.” Dave grins to himself. “So they didn’t wonder what you were doing with the game?” It’s not like Dave hasn’t _wondered_ about Kurt and Puckerman, but some confirmation would be interesting.

“Nah, they’ve been sleeping most of the day, or watching movies in there,” Hudson says. “I haven’t even seen ‘em.”

Dave keeps grinning and nods. “Yeah, okay. Be there in a few.”

It doesn’t take too long to grab burgers and fries, and then he parks on the street in front of the Hudson-Hummel house. He’s been around the town enough that someone reporting a blue truck in front of something is going to be hard to pin down, if the police even get that far. He climbs out and knocks, not wanting to ring the doorbell and wake anyone up.

It takes awhile for the door to swing open to reveal a rough-looking Hudson in pajama pants and a sweatshirt. “Hey,” Hudson says. “You want to come see what I’m doing to your CoD game?”

“Sure,” Dave agrees, stepping inside. “Kinda nice, a house where I’m not cleaning up or killing someone,” he says wryly.

“That’s... really fucking disturbing,” Hudson says, though he doesn’t actually sound that disturbed. “We should make sure Kurt and Puck at least hear you this time so they can vouch for you having been here. I’ll tell them you were here for hours and they just didn’t notice.”

“I’m a little hard to miss,” Dave says skeptically, following Hudson up the stairs and down the hall, where Hudson taps on a door.

“You guys?” Hudson calls out. “Karofsky ran out and got some food if you want it.”

There’s no immediate response, but the door cracks open eventually and Puckerman looks out. “I smell bacon.”

“Yeah, he got you some bacon,” Hudson says. “You want to eat in there?”

“Yeah, that’s good. I’ll wake K up.” Puckerman opens the door wide and shuffles over to the bed, climbing in like it’s perfectly normal for him and Kurt to be in bed together, which is about all the confirmation Dave needs. Since Hudson doesn’t even react, it probably is perfectly normal, at least to the three of them. 

Kurt sits up and yawn, looking a little confused when he sees Dave. “David. Hello.”

Before Dave can say anything, Hudson starts talking. “Something bad happened, Kurt. Really bad.”

“What is it, Finn?” Kurt asks, his focus shifting away from Dave completely, and Dave almost doesn’t notice Puckerman grabbing Kurt’s hand.

“Something really bad happened to Casey,” Hudson explains. “He’s at St. Rita’s. His dad hurt him really bad, and then he took some...” he looks over at Dave. “Some kind of pills, I guess?”

“Yeah. Prescription, and then some of his dad’s Jack,” Dave answers, feeling a little shaky when he actually thinks about the details.

“Oh, god,” Kurt says softly. “Oh, David, I’m so sorry. Is he going to be okay?”

“Yeah, uh. He’s awake now, I think,” Dave answers. “I’m going to see if they’ll let me in, now.”

“They wouldn’t let him in before,” Hudson says, a little too forcefully. “They wouldn’t even tell him anything, so... so he called me and came over here, and we played Call of Duty while we waited.”

“Surprised we didn’t hear you,” Puckerman says, but then he turns to his hamburger with bacon and seems to dismiss his surprise. “Let us know how he’s doing?”

“Sure,” Dave says, nodding. “So, uh. Yeah. Enjoy your burgers.” He musters up a grin and waves at the three of them, walking out of the room. Hudson follows him back down the stairs. 

“Finishing up?” Hudson asks. 

“Got any good ways to make it look accidental for Fordham?” Dave asks quietly. 

“He’s pretty fucking stupid. Maybe he’ll choke on his gum,” Hudson says. “Or... I mean, it’s still pretty icy out there. Anybody could slip.”

“Hit his head on a rock. Yeah. That’s perfect,” Dave nods. “Thanks, man. I mean it.”

“You think I wouldn’t do the same thing for somebody _I_ love?” Hudson asks, shaking his head. “Not saying it’s right, just saying sometimes you’ve gotta do stuff to keep people safe, and the stuff you’ve gotta do isn’t always gonna be pretty.”

“Yeah. Nothing about this was pretty,” Dave acknowledges. “Well. Pretty easy. Easier than I thought. I’ll call you when I get to the hospital and you can log me off.”

“Will do,” Hudson says. He puts out his hand, and Dave takes it firmly. “You take care of him, brother.”

“I will,” Dave promises, and with that, he heads towards Fordham’s house. He sits in his truck for a few minutes, then carefully walks around the house, finding the perfect icy spot and perfect rock on the side. He picks up the rock and heads to the door, knocking. Fordham opens the door, and Dave motions for him to step outside and follow him.

“What’s going on?” Fordham demands. “What are you doing at my house?”

“I’ve been tying up some loose ends,” Dave says over his shoulder, walking around the side of Fordham’s house. “It’s a good day for that.”

“Yeah, it’s also a good day for you to get the fuck offa my property, too,” Fordham says. He spits on the ground. “I don’t have time for this shit. I’m not even on the team anymore, Karofsky, I don’t have to do shit that you say.”

“Yeah, I know. You don’t have to do shit that anyone says, do you?” Dave grins. “Oh, hey, look over there, Fordham.”

“Look at what? The fuck am I—” Dave smashes the rock into the back of Fordham’s head as hard as he can, watching him slump down. Dave replaces the rock and positions Fordham, then stamps around, trying to imitate someone being frantic, before pulling out Fordham’s phone and dialing 911. 

He tries to alter his voice as much as he can when they answer. “This is Luke Johannson,” he says. “We were just horsing around! My friend, Fordham, he won’t get up. He’s just lying here, I guess he fell on the ice. Help!”

Dave gives Fordham’s address and acts frantic for awhile longer before ending the call, wiping the phone down, and dropping it on Fordham’s body. He gets back in the truck and drives to St. Rita’s, changing his shirt once he gets into the parking garage. He doesn’t see any blood on the old one, but he bundles it up anyway, tossing it in a biohazard container that he passes on his way towards the ER, where they inform him Casey’s up in a regular room now. 

Dave doesn’t even knock, just walks straight into Casey’s room with a slight smile on his face. “Case?”

“David?” Casey says, and even though his voice is hoarse and shaky, and his face is badly bruised, his eyes light up when he sees Dave. “David, you’re _here_.”

“Hey, they wouldn’t let me in at first,” Dave explains, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “But I’m here now.” He grins a little more. “Not going anywhere.”

“Really? You’re going to stay?” Casey sounds like he doesn’t quite believe what he’s hearing. One of his hands twitches slightly towards Dave, but he pulls it back just as quickly. 

Dave takes Casey’s hand and squeezes it. “Where would I go? I don’t have anything I have to do.”

Casey grips Dave’s hand tightly. “They won’t make you leave?”

“If they try to make me leave, I’ll just take you with me,” Dave assures Casey, though as soon as he says that, the more leaving with Casey sounds like it might be a good plan anyway.

“David, I don’t know what happened. They won’t tell me anything,” Casey says. He puts his other hand on top of Dave’s, and Dave can see the IV in Casey’s arm, the bandages around his other elbow. “They keep saying stuff around me, but nobody will talk _to_ me, and I don’t want to be here.”

“We’ll get you out of here, then,” Dave decides. “We’ll wait until it’s the middle of the night. Can you wait that long?”

Casey nods. “Where will we go? I asked when I could go home, when the nurse came in last, but she got this weird look on her face. She looked _scared_ , almost. She didn’t answer me.” His eyes are huge in his face, confused and afraid, but he clings to Dave’s hand like a lifeline. 

“Away from Lima,” Dave says. “Won’t that be nice? Out of this town, just for awhile. Make sure you don’t have to see Mick again.”

“But David, you’ll get in trouble!” Casey’s hold on Dave’s hand tightens even more. “I don’t want you to get in trouble. Not because of me.”

“They’ll understand,” Dave says confidently, because the more he thinks about it, the more it sounds like a great continuing alibi. Why would Dave run with Casey, take him away from Lima, if _he_ had anything to do with Mick dying? It’s perfect, more perfect than Dave could have imagined. “Just for a few days, Case. My dad will work everything out for me. He always has.” Dave had threatened to kill Kurt, after all, and wasn’t he still at McKinley? Paul Karofsky was always in Dave’s corner.

“You really want to do that?” Casey asks. His voice trembles and his eyes start to get shiny as tears collect in the corners. “David, you don’t have to do that.”

“It’s just a little adventure,” Dave insists. “Any city you’ve always wanted to visit? It’s just a vacation. Just until Lima gets everything together.”

Casey shakes his head. “I’ll go anywhere. It doesn’t matter to me. David, I—” He cuts himself off abruptly, and underneath the purple bruises, Dave can see Casey’s face turning red. 

“What’s wrong?” Dave asks softly. “What is it? Are you in pain?”

Casey shakes his head again, and blushes even darker red. “No, I’m okay. I’m, um.” He runs his thumb along the back of Dave’s hand, over and over. 

“Get some rest before we leave,” Dave suggests, squeezing Casey’s hand again. “Okay? I’ll be right here.”

Casey nods, and he doesn’t relax his grip on Dave’s hand, even as he leans back against his pillow and closes his eyes. Only a few minutes pass before Casey’s hands go lax and his breathing slows and deepens. Another ten minutes pass, and Casey starts to twitch and whimper in his sleep, his head tossing side to side. Dave squeezes the top of Casey’s hand and slowly lies down beside him, running his hand over Casey’s arm. He pulls his phone out to make one last phone call to Hudson. It rings three times before Hudson picks up.

“Everything taken care of?” Hudson asks.

“Yep. Jojo even called about his friend Fordham slipping while they were horsing around,” Dave says quietly. “Listen, Case and I are going to take off for a few days at least. Makes sense I wouldn’t want him to be around his dad after this, right?”

“Yeah. Of course you took him and ran,” Hudson agrees. “Couldn’t let him go back to that.”

“Exactly.” It’s a relief that Hudson gets it. “Thanks, man. Hopefully I’ll see you in a week or so. Turning my phone off in another hour or so, though.”

“Take care of yourself, Dave,” Hudson says. “Take care of Casey, too.”

“I will. If you ever need anything—well, I can’t repay this, but you get the idea.” Dave takes a deep breath. “Bye, Hudson.”

“Bye, Karofsky.”

Dave starts to put his phone away, then decides to write down the numbers in his phone, so if he gets a disposable, he can still place a few calls. They’ll probably monitor Hudson, but maybe not, and probably not Puckerman, Kurt, and Hudson. He writes the numbers on the hospital notepad and folds the paper up in his wallet, toying with the idea of calling his dad. He decides against it, setting the alarm on his phone instead.

Casey whimpers, then cries out once, curling against Dave’s shoulder. Dave puts his arm around Casey, pulling him closer. “Shh,” Dave whispers. “We’ll be gone soon, Case.”

“David,” Casey says softly, sounding like he might even still be asleep. 

“I promise,” Dave says. “Just a few more hours.”

“I love you,” Casey whispers, his fingers tangling in the front of Dave’s shirt. His whole body shudders, and he exhales slowly, going limp against Dave’s side. 

Dave smiles at him, using the remote on the bed to turn the light down further. “Maybe they’ll write a song about us,” he says into the quiet room. “The lovers of Lima. Has a ring to it, right?” 

 

Dave’s alarm wakes him up a few hours later, and he silences it quickly. He waits ten minutes, and when no nurse appears, he turns off the phone completely and goes to look out the door. No one on the corridor, and Dave nods, noting the location of the stairs. He can carry Casey down unobserved. 

He returns to the bed, shaking Casey gently. “Case. Wake up. We need to take this IV out.”

Casey opens his eyes and blinks a few times. “You didn’t leave,” he says. He sounds surprised, like he thought Dave might go while he was sleeping. 

“Nope. But it’s time for both of us to go now,” Dave says. “You want me to take out that IV? I think there’s a band-aid in the drawers.”

Casey nods, and he looks away as Dave removes the IV and puts a band-aid on it quickly. 

“Okay. We’re going to wrap this blanket around you for now,” Dave tells Casey. “Then I’ll run to the Walmart before we head out of town. Good?” Casey nods again, eyes wide. “Okay. I’m going to just carry you down the stairs.”

Dave wraps the blanket around Casey, just like he said, then scoops Casey up off the bed gently. Casey puts his arms around Dave’s neck while Dave carries him. There’s still no one in the hall, and the trek to Dave’s truck is so easy that it feels too easy, just like almost everything Dave’s done that day. 

When Dave parks in the Walmart lot, he gets as far from a light as he can, then turns to Casey. “What kind of clothes do you want? Jeans, t-shirts, flannel shirts?”

“Anything is fine,” Casey says quietly. 

“Okay. Wait here,” Dave instructs, and just as he’s about to climb out of the truck, he leans over instead, kissing Casey softly. “I’ll be right back, Case. I promise,” he whispers. Casey’s eyes reflect the dim light from the parking lot as he nods.

Dave stops at the ATM inside the Walmart first, getting as much cash as he can, then buys a few outfits for Casey before checking out. He climbs back into the truck and hands the bags to Casey. 

“We’ll go by my house for a few minutes. I can get more cash there, and you can get dressed there. That okay?”

“Okay, David,” Casey says. 

When they get to Dave’s house, Dave carefully carries Casey inside, all the way to Dave’s room, and sets him on Dave’s bed. “I’m going to go get that cash first,” Dave tells Casey. “Then we’ll worry about clothes.” The money is exactly where Dave expects it to be, and he returns quickly. He unwraps the blanket and puts it in the Walmart bag; if people find that, it’ll be fine. “Need help?”

Casey starts to shake his head, but when he raises his arm to try to unfasten the hospital gown, he winces. “Maybe yes,” he says.

“Okay.” Dave gently unfastens it, wincing at the bruises revealed. “Oh, Case.” He picks up the thermal underwear he got in case they went north, helping Casey slide it on, before adding a t-shirt and a flannel shirt. “Very ‘90s,” Dave says with a grin. “You okay with that?”

Casey almost laughs as he nods, cracking a smile at least. “It’s warm.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was hoping,” Dave agrees. Wordlessly, he puts white socks on Casey’s feet, then helps him into one of the pairs of jeans before putting on his shoes. “Okay, I’m going to grab some clothes of mine, and then it’s time to go,” Dave says, sitting down beside Casey despite his words. “Case?”

Casey looks up at him. “David?”

“You’re still okay with this?”

Casey nods. “I don’t want to have to go home, David. And I don’t want to be in the hospital. I want to be with you.”

“Okay.” Dave stands up and then leans back over, kissing the top of Casey’s head. “I love you, Case.”

A quiet gasp comes of out Casey, and one of his hands reaches for Dave’s hand. “I love you, David.”

Dave squeezes his hand and grins. “I’m going to get my clothes and we’ll be the younger and male version of _Thelma and Louise_. Alive, too, actually.” Dave shakes his head. One day he’ll have to ‘fess up to Casey, but not now. He packs a bag quickly, then grabs all of their stuff and Casey again, slipping back out the front door and loading it in the truck. 

“North or south, Casey?” Dave asks as he drives towards I-75. Casey curls up against Dave’s side on the truck’s seat, his legs tucked under him, and he rests his head against Dave’s arm. 

“South sounds good,” he says sleepily. “Warmer.”

“Warmer it is, then,” Dave agrees. He gets on to I-75 and starts to think of destinations. “I’m thinking Austin, Texas, Case. Brush up on your cowboy lingo.”

Casey giggles softly once, then gradually relaxes against Dave. It’s the middle of the night in February, there are very few cars on the road, and just below Dayton, Dave has the absurd mental image of a few cans on the back of the truck. The writing’d have to say something like ‘Just Committed A Crime’, but it’s the cans that would really make the whole thing complete.


	2. The One With All the License Plates

Dave drives until the sky to his left starts to turn pink, and he gets off the interstate then, onto the self-proclaimed Dixie Highway, looking for a motel that won’t ask questions about a guy paying cash for a single. The Pon-De-Lon is exactly what they need, a flat grey building that’s as nondescript as any motel Dave’s ever seen, and he parks in front of the office. Casey stays asleep, and Dave doesn’t tell the motel that there’s anyone with him, just accepts his key and drives towards the room. He parks in front of it and studies the actual key that he’s been handed, no keycard, and contemplates the best way to get them inside. Probably he should take in the bags and then get Casey in. 

“Case,” Dave whispers. “Case, I’m going to take a change of clothes in for each of us, and then we’ll go in and sleep.”

Casey blinks at him sleepily, then nods. “‘Kay,” he says quietly, pulling his flannel shirt more tightly around himself. 

Dave nods once, taking in a change of clothes and flipping on just one lamp, near the back of the room. He pulls the curtains shut and props the door, glad that he managed to find the motel before it was completely light out. He opens Casey’s door and touches his shoulder. “Need me to carry you again?”

“Um.” Casey slides to the edge of truck’s seat and looks down at the cracked pavement of the parking lot. “I don’t know.”

“Okay.” Dave shrugs and scoops Casey up, carrying him into the motel. He sets Casey on the bed, then locks the door and props a chair in front of it. He turns on the television, tossing the remote to Casey, and turns the lamp back off. Casey leans back against the flat-looking pillows and listlessly flips through channels, not really watching the television. 

Dave paces in the room for a while, occasionally looking out the window, and finally he takes off his shoes and lies on the bed next to Casey. “Nothing good on?”

“The channels are all fuzzy,” Casey says, curling up against Dave’s side and resting his head on Dave’s arm. “It’s like watching through snow.”

“Maybe we should just sleep?” Dave offers. 

Casey nods his head against Dave’s arm. “It’s so cold in here.”

“I’ll stop and get us some extra blankets later,” Dave offers, picking up the remote and turning off the television. “Be thinking about what you want for dinner. Breakfast. The meal we’ll have after we sleep, anyway.”

“I’m not hungry,” Casey says, clinging to Dave a little more tightly. 

Dave shrugs and puts his other arm around Casey. “But you will be later.”

“Maybe.” Casey turns his face against Dave’s arm and sighs quietly. 

“Smoothie?” Dave suggests, pulling Casey closer.

“Maybe,” Casey repeats. He wraps his arm around Dave’s middle and sighs again, sounding almost happy. “I love you, David,” he murmurs.

Dave smiles, even though he’s pretty sure Casey’s eyes are closed. “I love you, Case.” He kisses Casey’s forehead, then his cheek. “Sleep, okay? Everything’s fine.”

Casey’s response of “‘Kay” is almost inaudible, and only a few minutes pass before Casey’s deeper breathing indicates he’s asleep. Dave watches Casey for several minutes before he realizes that, fuzzy channels or not, he needs to know what is and isn’t on the news. He turns the volume down to zero and finally figures out the closed captioning before navigating to a channel that’s showing the news. 

There’s a woman in a turquoise suit on the screen, and the closed captioning tells him that they’ve just gone to their affiliate in Lima, Ohio. Dave glances back at Casey and slowly turns the volume up.

“... caps off a bizarre rash of crimes this Presidents Day weekend. Police are also investigating two apparently unrelated missing persons cases involving McKinley high school students. Sophomore Luke Johannson disappeared after placing the 9-1-1 call that brought Micah Fordham’s death to police attention. Police currently have no leads on Mr. Johannson’s whereabouts, and encourage anyone who might have spoken with him to call with any information they have. The other missing juvenile, sophomore Casey O’Brien, was last seen on video footage in the parking deck of St. Rita’s Medical Center, where he was under observation. Police have issued an Amber Alert for Casey, whom they believe may have been abducted by McKinley senior David Karofsky. They may be traveling in a blue Chevrolet truck, Ohio plates...”

Dave turns off the television before they can continue. _Fuck_. He’ll have to swap out his plates. Maybe stop at a Lowe’s and get some wood, so he can pretend to be a carpenter or something. If he gets Kentucky plates now, he can keep them until maybe Arkansas. Dave rubs his hand over his face. Abducted. It’s ridiculous.

Casey whimpers in his sleep, the arm across Dave’s middle twitching. Dave rubs his hand down Casey’s spine. “Shh, Case,” Dave whispers. “Shh.” He kisses Casey’s cheek again, then rests his lips against Casey’s ear.

Casey’s fingers twist in the front of Dave’s shirt, tilting his head towards Dave’s, his eyes still closed. “David,” Casey murmurs.

“Yeah, I’m still here,” Dave says. “Not going anywhere.”

 

As soon as the sun sets, Dave goes out to his truck and removes the Ohio plates. He swipes a University of Kentucky novelty plate from the front of the car next to his, then walks next door to the wrecker place and swipes three sets of Kentucky plates. He puts one set on, reloads the truck, deciding they can skip changing clothes for another few hours at least, then goes to wake up Casey. 

“Case.” He touches Casey’s shoulder gently. “Case, babe, it’s time to get back on the road.”

Casey opens his eyes and carefully sits up. “Okay. Where are we? Is it still Ohio?” He starts to rub his eyes and winces, pulling his hands away from his face quickly and looking slightly startled. 

“Just inside Kentucky,” Dave answers. “We’ll go an hour or so and then stop for some food.” 

“Okay, David,” Casey says. “Are we still going to Texas?”

“Lone Star State,” Dave says, nodding. “I was thinking, smoothies and milkshakes today. We’ll start you on more solid stuff tomorrow.”

“I’m still really not hungry,” Casey says. “I’m just cold.”

“Blanket and a smoothie then, at our first stop. Your appetite’s probably just a little wonky for now.” Dave lifts Casey up and heads out to the truck, settling him quickly in the passenger seat. He climbs in and starts up the truck, leaving the room key in the door instead of checking out. “You want to call anybody?” Dave asks casually. He’s not a kidnapper, after all. 

Casey frowns. “I don’t want my mom to worry, but... if I call, they might figure out where we are, couldn’t they?”

“Probably, yeah,” Dave says, wincing internally at the mention of Amy. Despite Casey’s statements, he doubts Amy would actually be worried, if she were alive to worry.

“Maybe after we’re in Texas? After we can get everything taken care of?” Casey says. “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“Yeah, maybe then,” Dave agrees. “I’ll call my dad then, too. I mean. We’re not leaving forever. They just need to make sure you’re safe.”

Casey nods. “Yes. And you, too. You need to be safe, too. If you got in trouble because of me...”

Dave snorts. “I’m eighteen. I’m allowed to travel wherever. I’ll be fine, really.”

“Okay. As long as you’re sure.” 

“I’m sure,” Dave insists, putting his hand on Casey’s leg. They drive for a little more than an hour, until Dave spots a Lowe’s that’s still open, and he pulls into the lot, far from the lights. “I’m going to go buy a load of wood,” he explains to Casey. “Put in the back and be a carpenter or contractor or something.”

“You need a tool box,” Casey says. “You can just stick some rocks or something in it, but if you don’t have a tool box, it won’t look right.”

“Tool box. Okay.” Dave nods. “We can put our extra clothes and stuff in it.”

Casey smiles at Dave like he thinks that’s a great idea. “Okay. I’ll just, um. Sit here.”

Dave grins back at Casey, kissing his nose and then slowly brushing his lips over Casey’s. “I’ll be as fast as I can,” he promises. He hurries into the building, getting a toolbox and a bunch of wood before paying in cash at the self-checkout line. Ten minutes later, the toolbox has their clothes in it, the wood is secured, and Dave pulls into a gas station advertising ‘Real Fruit Smoothies!’

“Any flavor you don’t want?” Dave asks Casey.

“Um.” Casey frowns slightly, like the question is more complicated than it sounds, before he finally shakes his head. “Whatever you think looks good is fine.”

“Okay. But you have to drink all of it, Case. Just a smoothie, that’s all.” 

“Alright, David. I will, I promise.”

Dave smiles at Casey and goes in to order two extra-large banana-strawberry smoothies, both with extra protein powder, though Dave also gets the ‘energy powder’ in his. He smiles pleasantly at the girl behind the counter, hoping she won’t really remember him, and returns to the truck. 

“One banana-strawberry smoothie,” he says, handing the one without the energy additive to Casey. “Drink up!”

“Okay, David,” Casey says, even though he looks askance at the large cup. He takes it from Dave and quietly drinks it as Dave gets back on the highway, still heading mostly southwest. It takes Casey close to half an hour to finish his smoothie, but he does drink the whole thing, and when he’s done he lies down with his head on Dave’s leg and dozes. 

Dave stops twice without waking Casey up. Once, he grabs a Big Mac and another set of license plates, this time from South Carolina, and the second time, he finally picks up a few extra blankets from a twenty-four hour Walmart. He puts one of them over Casey and immediately heads back down the road, starting to scan the billboards for likely motels. 

It’s a little before five am when Dave sees the sign for the Roseann Motel in Searcy, Arkansas, and he drives slowly up to it. There’s a line of scraggly bald-butt trees that doesn’t fully conceal it, but Dave quickly pays for a night and then backs his truck up, so the only plate showing is the borrowed Kentucky Wildcats one. Once again, he takes in a change of clothes for each of them, turning on a single lamp and drawing the curtains, before waking up Casey.

“Case, babe,” Dave says softly, opening the passenger door. “Welcome to Arkansas!”

“Already?” Casey asks him. 

“Already,” Dave agrees, unfastening the seat belt and carrying Casey into the room. “Want to watch some really bad early-morning television? I think I’ll walk down to the IHOP. Get myself some pancakes, get you another smoothie.”

Casey’s eyes widen and he pales slightly. “Oh,” he says, softly.

“I’ll be right back,” Dave says, running his hand through Casey’s hair gently. “But it’s safer if you’re in here, okay? Put the chain lock on as soon as I leave?”

Casey’s eyes are shiny and he starts to tremble, but he nods his head slowly. “Alright, David.”

Dave leans down, kissing Casey softly at first, then with a little more pressure, until he can slide his tongue into Casey’s mouth. “I promise, Case. I’ll be right back.” Dave straightens and squeezes Casey’s shoulder very gently, then walks out of the room and down the street as fast as he can without looking suspicious. Of course, since the sun isn’t yet up, there’s a certain degree of questioning looks from the IHOP staff, but he gets the food and smoothie quickly, and returns to the room, knocking just twice. 

“It’s me,” he says as quietly as he can and still have Casey hear him. He hears the sound of the chain being removed almost frantically. When the door opens, Casey is sheet-white, trembling, and Dave hurries to set down the food and relock the door so he can put both arms around Casey. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. See? I’m back.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Casey whispers. “I know. I just... I just...” He makes a quiet sound, almost like a hiccup, and then his shoulders start to shake. 

“No reason to be sorry,” Dave assures him, walking them slowly over to the bed. “Shhh. Sit down, babe. We’ll have our food and then sleep, okay? Shhh.”

Casey’s fingers twist in the front of Dave’s shirt, and he nods, but he doesn’t stop shaking or making the soft, almost squeaky noises. Dave pets Casey’s head, because if anyone needs to cry, it’s Casey, and Dave listens to his quiet cries for a long while before they slow and Dave hands Casey the smoothie. Casey takes the cup, still sniffling, and slowly drinks the smoothie while Dave eats his pancakes. 

When Dave finishes, he tries to get the water in the sink hot, so his hands won’t be as sticky, but it never musters anything past lukewarm, and he sighs. “No shower here,” he tells Casey, walking back to the bed. “Unless you’re secretly a member of the Polar Bear Club?”

Casey shakes his head, still looking paler than usual. “I smell like hospital,” he says softly.

“Nah, you don’t,” Dave tells him, sitting down and pulling Casey to him. “I bet I stink, though. Think you can stand it?”

The corner of Casey’s mouth twitches into a quick smile. “You don’t stink.”

“Good.” Dave kisses Casey, because he _can_ , and then kisses his nose and his forehead. “Time to sleep, though. We’ll get going as soon as the sun sets.”

“Okay, David,” Casey says. 

Dave smiles and lies back, carefully pulling Casey with him, and shuts off the lamp. He shift his arms until Casey is pressed against him, his head tucked under Dave’s chin, and Dave closes his eyes. “Night, Case.”

Casey’s head tilts slightly, and his lips press against the hollow of Dave’s throat once before he responds, “Goodnight, David,” and nestles himself against Dave again. Dave falls asleep with a smile on his face. 

When Dave wakes up, it’s still light outside, and he toys with the idea of going to get more food. Instead, he just goes to the vending machines to get a pop and a candy bar, and then he decides he needs to make a plan for the next day or two. He gets about five minutes into that plan when he realizes he needs more information, so he digs around for the disposable prepaid cell phone he bought back at the Walmart, and pulls his list of contacts out of his wallet, dialing Hudson.

“Hello?” Hudson says, sounding a little less like he’s about to drop dead. 

“Hudson. It’s me,” Dave says quietly.

“Oh, shit!” There’s a clattering noise, then Hudson says, “Sorry, dropped my phone. Are you guys okay? Is he with you? You guys were on the fucking _news_ , dude! They think you’re a kidnapper!”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re fine,” Dave says. “I saw part of the news... yesterday morning, I guess? We’ve been driving at night, sleeping during the day. What else are they saying?”

“They’re calling the... uh... _thing_ a murder-suicide. They don’t even seem, like, suspicious about it or anything, dude. Good job!”

“Thank fuck,” Dave breathes. “That’s the two, I mean. The other two, I’ll tell him eventually.”

“Yeah. They’re saying the Fordham thing looks like an accident, but they’re still looking for Jojo for questioning,” Hudson says. “Only thing you’re in trouble for is kidnapping Casey, and I guess as soon as he tells them that’s not what happened, you’re probably fine. He’s doing ok?”

“I guess so. I mean, as well as he can be, right?” Dave answers. “A lot of sleeping. Getting smoothies into him now. I figure another day or two and he can start on some soups and stuff.”

“Are _you_ ok?”

“Pretty smelly. Forgot to pack a toothbrush.” Dave chuckles. “But yeah, I’m okay. Story is we’re laying low until I can make sure he doesn’t have to go back to Mick. Two weeks or whatever. Just... we need these couple of weeks. I need not to be in Lima for awhile. I mean, I...” Dave trails off, in case Casey’s awake, or even partially awake. He’s not admitting out loud that he killed four people.

“Yeah, I getcha,” Hudson says. “But you know... I’d have done the same thing. Not even bullshitting. If somebody did that to—” He cuts himself off. “Anyway. I don’t care how it sounds, man. I don’t think I would have done any different from you.”

“Thanks, dude. You heard anything about where they think I took him?”

“Nothing. I mean... there’s, like, rumors, right? But nothing official.”

“Canada’s nice this time of year, right?”

“Right!” Hudson laughs. “Well, I mean... they were talking about it at PFLAG yesterday. Nobody really knows what to think about it. Couple people were really upset, you know?” He snorts once and adds, “But I think Rickenbacker thinks it’s romantic or some shit.”

Dave laughs. “God, of course he does. You had to, uh, use that game? And your brother?”

“Nobody even asked, dude, seriously. Well, I mean, Kurt asked... I think he knows I’m not telling the truth, but he isn’t asking _too_ much, and that means I don’t have to tell him.”

“Yeah, probably he does,” Dave agrees, breathing a short sigh of relief. Kurt might have guessed, even, but if he’s not asking Hudson, he doesn’t know anything to tell anyone.

“But you guys aren’t eloping, right?” Hudson asks.

“He’s fifteen, Hudson, and I can’t get him pregnant,” Dave deadpans.

Hudson makes some sort of choking noise, then he starts laughing. “Yeah, I didn’t figure, but Rickenbacker was convinced, and he was getting Brown worked up about it, too. Something about flowers. I don’t even know, man. Seriously. I didn’t ask.”

“Flowers?” Dave asks, mystified, then shakes his head. “Nevermind. Yeah, probably safer for everyone not to ask. Listen. I’ll check in again in a few days. Thanks, man.”

“It’s nothing,” Hudson assures him. “If the tables were turned? Dude, you understand how it is. There’s nothing that you _don’t_ do for somebody you love. That shit doesn’t come with a limit.”

“Yeah. Exactly.” Dave stands and looks out the window, just enough to see the sun going down. “Okay, sun’s setting here, so we’re getting going. Later.”

“Take care of yourselves.”

“Will do.” Dave ends the call and turns off the disposable for good measure, putting it in his pocket, and collects all of their trash into a bag that he puts in the truck. Disposing of it along the way means even less to connect them to anything. He does change his clothes, putting the dirty ones in the toolbox, then tries to wake up Casey. “Case. You want to change clothes before we go?”

“I smell like motel,” Casey says. “Yes. Clothes are good.”

“Motel’s better than hospital?” Dave offers, bringing Casey’s change of clothes over to the bed and slowly starting to help Casey undress. When Dave pulls the long underwear over Casey’s head, Casey blushes bright pink and looks away. Dave smiles and runs his thumbs over Casey’s nipples, repeating the motion a few times until Casey makes a squeaky noise, and then Dave runs his hands slowly down Casey’s chest. “We’ll find someplace nicer, at least for one night, when we get to Austin, okay?”

Casey blushes even brighter pink and looks up at Dave from under his eyelashes. “Okay, David. Whatever you want.”

Dave helps Casey finish changing clothes before wrapping the blanket around him and helping him out to the truck. The sun’s finished setting by the time they hit the McDonald’s drive-through, getting each of them a milkshake. 

“We’ll find an all-night diner tonight,” Dave tells Casey. “Soup, maybe some pie? Sound good?”

“I do like pie,” Casey says. “David?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“I love you so much.” His hand reaches for Dave’s and he holds it tightly.

Dave looks over at Casey for a second and grins. “I love you, too.”

“Thank you for taking such good care of me.”

“I’m glad to. Really.”

Casey leans against Dave’s arm and sighs happily. Dave shifts so that his arm is around Casey’s shoulders and drives until they reach a diner in Texarkana, which looks like a decent enough place to stop. He hopes they don’t notice the South Carolina plates, since they don’t have southern accents, so he parks with the plates away from the building. 

“Case?”

“Mmhmm?”

“Diner time,” Dave says with a grin. “Their window even says fresh-baked pie daily.”

“This is a good place for stopping,” Casey says cheerfully. 

“Exactly.” They get a few strange looks as they enter and sit down in a booth close to the door, but the food is hot and Dave’s platter is excellent. He looks over at Casey’s bowl of soup and gestures to it with his spoon. “Good?” Casey nods and pokes at his soup a few times with his spoon. “At least eat all of the broth, okay? Menu said it was chicken stock. That stuff’s supposed to be miraculous or something.”

“Alright, David,” Casey says, and he starts spooning up small sips of broth. 

While he’s eating, the waitress comes back by the table, spending a few too many moments looking at Casey before she asks, “Do you two boys need anything else?”

“Could we get a couple of slices of pie to go?” Dave asks. “Oh, and a to-go cup of coffee.”

“For both of you?” she asks, still staring at Casey and occasionally glancing back at Dave suspiciously. 

“Just one cup of coffee,” Dave answers, a little more tersely.

“Hon, did you want a cup to go, too?” she asks Casey directly. Casey looks puzzled and shakes his head, still mostly focused on his soup.

“That’s all we need,” Dave says firmly, with just a slight smile.

“I’ll bring the check and your pie, then,” she says, frowning faintly before she turns to walk away from the table. 

“We’re going to turn the opposite way of how we’re going when we leave here,” Dave whispers to Casey. “So don’t worry.”

“I won’t,” Casey says placidly, continue to sip broth from his spoon. 

After a few minutes the waitress returns with the pie and the bill. “You can pay this up there,” she says to Dave, gesturing up at the counter. “No rush to finish that soup, honey,” she tells Casey. 

Dave frowns and counts out the exact change, waiting just a minute before going to the counter and putting the bill down with the money on top of it. Once the other waitress is finished, he turns around to see their waitress standing at the table, apparently asking Casey some questions, and he walks back over more slowly than he wants to. 

“No,” Casey’s saying to her, sounding confused.

“Well, if there’s anything at all you need...” When the waitress sees Dave approaching the table, she trails off. “I’ll just fetch that go-cup for you.”

Dave frowns and sits back down as she crosses the diner. “What’d she ask you?” Dave asks Casey quietly.

“She asked if I was okay, and if I needed her to call anybody,” Casey says, still sounding puzzled. “That’s so weird.”

“Yeah,” Dave agrees, but inwardly he winces, and as soon as she brings the coffee, they leave the diner. Dave turns back towards the north, going up a few blocks before turning down a side street that leads to a parallel road. They stop in front of an automotive shop before they go back to the main road, and Dave switches out the South Carolina plate for one from Louisiana. Altogether, it adds about fifteen minutes, and Dave decides that they should probably stop sooner than usual. They can go into Austin early in the evening and maybe start resetting their clocks so they aren’t so nocturnal. Even though he’d wanted to be able to tell Casey they were in Austin, a stop might be smarter.

If the waitress had been any nosier.... Dave tightens his hands on the steering wheel. He would have had to kill her, possibly; anything to keep them safe. Anything to keep _Casey_ safe.

It’s still another four hours to Waco, but they pull into the motel lot well before the sun’s rising, and Dave counts that as a victory. By now, it’s a routine: Dave checks in, paying cash, then backs the truck up just in front of their door. He unloads whatever they need, closes the curtains, then helps Casey inside. It’s earlier than he’s been going to sleep, but the stress of the stop in Texarkana is apparently catching up with him, because he sinks onto the bed next to Casey with a small sigh of relief. 

Casey curls up against Dave, with one of his legs thrown over Dave’s, and his hand resting in the middle of Dave’s chest. “Your heart’s beating so hard,” Casey says quietly. 

Dave tightens his arms around Casey almost involuntarily. “I guess that waitress just worried me a little,” Dave admits. “But we’re fine, aren’t we?”

“Of course we’re fine,” Casey says. He rubs the tip of his nose against the side of Dave’s neck, then kisses Dave in the same spot. “I’m so happy I’m with you.”

Dave smiles. “We’ll be in Austin tomorrow, Case,” he says. “We’ll be there and we’ll get a nicer hotel. One with a bathtub and nicer floors.”

“One that’s warmer?” Casey asks. He runs his hand down the center of Dave’s chest rhythmically. 

“Definitely one that’s warmer,” Dave agrees.

“‘Kay,” Casey says, and presses his body even closer to Dave’s before his hand gradually stills and comes to rest on Dave’s stomach. 

Dave lets his own eyes close, and when they open again, he can tell he’s been asleep, though he can’t remember dreaming, and neither he nor Casey appear to have moved. Dave tidies the room, just like he has before, though they’re close enough to Austin he doesn’t think they need to worry about changing clothes. 

“Ready for our triumphant entrance to Austin, Case?” Dave asks.

“I don’t own a cowboy hat,” Casey says. “Do you think I’ll be okay?”

“I think those are more important in Dallas or Houston,” Dave says with a grin as they head out to the truck. 

“Oh. That’s good. I’d probably look stupid in one of those.”

“I’m glad I don’t have to get a huge belt buckle, personally,” Dave jokes, pulling out of the lot. “I’m not sure I can pull that off.”

Casey starts to giggle, and he leans against Dave’s arm. “I already like Texas.”

“It’s very very flat,” Dave says, laughing a little. “Very flat.”

“Mmmhmm,” Casey agrees. “I don’t think we’re supposed to mess with Texas. I read that somewhere. On a thing.”

Dave laughs again. “Hopefully Texas won’t mess with us, either.”

“Nobody would mess with you, David,” Casey says. He sounds completely confident. “Nobody would even try.”

Dave shakes his head, squeezing Casey’s hand, but doesn’t argue with Casey. They make good time to Austin, and Dave navigates towards the Austin Motel using the flier he picked up at a rest stop. There’s a coupon on the bottom for two nights for just $120, and Dave thinks that’d give them a chance to get their bearings and maybe find one of those extended stay places. 

The apparently-historic Austin Motel decorates every room differently, which leaves Dave confused when they ask if he has a preference of room number. 

“Just one with a bathtub,” Dave says finally. “Oh, and carpet, instead of a tile floor.”

“Sure, we’ll put you in 125. Anything else I can get for you?” the clerk asks him.

“No, I think—oh, wait. Toothbrushes?” Dave asks sheepishly. 

“Of course. Any other toiletries you need, just feel free to call down to the desk,” the clerks says. “Hold on a second, I’ll go grab a couple toothbrushes for you.” She disappears into the office for a moment and returns with two toothbrushes and a small tube of toothpaste. “I’m always losing mine when I travel, too!”

Dave grins. “Thanks.” He pockets the toothbrushes and toothpaste and drives the truck to a parking spot where he can back in, then grabs all of their stuff. “Come on, Case,” he says enthusiastically. “We’ve got a bathtub and carpet tonight _and_ tomorrow night.”

“Really?” Casey asks. “Do you think the water gets warm?”

“I bet it gets too warm,” Dave says, unlocking the door and using a keycard for the first time the entire trip. “We’ll have to use the cold water to keep it comfortable.”

Casey giggles. “You’re making that up!”

Dave shrugs and sets their clothes down. “Guess we’ll have to find out,” he challenges Casey, locking the door and drawing the curtains closed.

“I smell _sooo_ bad!”

“Better than I do!” Dave says, heading into the bathroom and starting to run the water. “Oh, yeah, this is actually hot, babe!” He stops up the drain and lets the water start to fill the tub. “C’mon, let’s get you in here.”

“Okay,” Casey says, and he lets Dave pull his shirt over his head, blushing again. Dave smiles and kisses Casey’s nose, making him giggle, and by the time Casey’s undressed, the tub’s full. Dave offers Casey his hand, helping him step in, and Dave unwraps the soap.

“I’ll wash your hair for you right before you get out,” Dave offers, handing Casey the soap. Dave stands and unwraps both toothbrushes, putting toothpaste on both of them before starting to brush his own teeth. Once he’s done, he walks back to the tub. “Ready? Or not yet?”

“I, um. Got everywhere I could get, anyway.”

“Okay.” Dave picks up the hotel shampoo and squirts it into his hand. “Lean your head back, babe.” Casey does exactly that, leans his head back and closes his eyes. Dave carefully lathers up Casey’s hair, then rinses all the shampoo out. “Okay.” Dave leans over the tub and kisses Casey gently. “Time to get out.”

Dave helps Casey out, drying his hair with a towel and then wrapping him in the towel and one of their blankets before helping him out to the bed. He turns on the television and finds some cartoons, then hands Casey the remote. 

“I saw a vending machine with popsicles out there,” Dave says. “So I’ll get some of those and then take my own shower.”

Casey looks between Dave and the door anxiously, but all he says is, “Alright.”

Dave gets eight of the popsicles, then hurries back to the room, putting on the chain lock before putting seven of the popsicles into the minifridge. He unwraps the eighth one and hands it to Casey, who is curled up in the blanket, watching the cartoons. “One popsicle delivery,” Dave jokes.

“Thank you, David,” Casey says. “I like the red ones best.”

Dave grins and heads towards the bathtub. “Good!” He takes as quick of a shower as he can with still being thorough, then dries off and pulls on fresh clothes. When he steps back towards Casey, he stops and watches him for a moment. The red popsicle is half-eaten, and Casey’s mouth is almost scarlet from the dye. The blanket’s slipped off Casey’s shoulders slightly, and Dave smiles before he crosses the room and tugs it up. “Don’t want you to get cold.”

Casey smiles back. “Thank you.”

“I’m going to step out there and make a phone call,” Dave says soothingly. “I’ll be right in front of the door if you need me. Then I don’t have anything else I have to do for hours, okay?”

“Okay,” Casey says, though he frowns slightly and looks anxious again.

Dave kisses him, because it seems to reassure both of them, then goes outside and stands exactly where he told Casey he would, before calling Hudson. 

“Hey, man,” Hudson says. “How’s the kidnapping?”

Dave laughs. “It’s good. What’s the latest?”

“Only thing they’re pinning on you is the abduction of a troubled minor,” Hudson says cheerfully. “And I bet he’s not really all that troubled now that he’s with you.”

“He’s eating a popsicle and watching cartoons right now, so, yeah. Not real troubled,” Dave agrees. “They close any of the investigations?”

“They’re not even talking about Casey’s parents anymore. They’re still looking for Jojo for questioning about Fordham’s death, but far as I know, the official word is still an accident,” Hudson explains. “You guys make it somewhere safe?”

“Good, good,” Dave says. “Yeah, we’re safe. I guess...” He trails off, thinking. “We’ll stay gone for another week, week and a half. I’ll call my dad at some point. Negotiate our return. You think that’ll work?” 

“I don’t know, man. You’re eighteen. Casey’s just a kid. Who know what they’ll try to do with him.”

“If they won’t listen, guess we won’t come back,” Dave says. “I can probably find day labor for cash just about anywhere in the country after they take a look at me.”

“Hopefully that won’t be an issue,” Hudson says. “Nobody’s even asked me anything yet. I guess they haven’t looked at your phone records or whatever. Well, I mean, Kurt sorta asked, but all I had to tell him is it wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for him, and that was pretty much it.”

Dave squints a little, because Hudson sounds like he’s implying... well. “Huh,” he finally says. “Okay. Well, if you don’t hear from me, we’re just settling in a bit. Hopefully we’ll be back in a couple of weeks.”

“Yeah. Don’t want you to lose the full ride,” Hudson answers. 

“Right,” Dave agrees, suppressing the urge to laugh. “Oh, damn. I should get Case some books tomorrow, so he doesn’t fall too far behind.”

“Uh. Yeah, I guess that’s a good idea,” Hudson says. “Well... good luck with that, I guess.”

“Thanks, dude. For everything.” Dave sees someone coming out of another room and nods a little to himself. “Gotta go.”

“Alright, man. Later.”

Dave turns the phone off again, walking back into the room and locking the doors before setting key and phone on the side table. Casey looks relieved to see Dave back in the room. The popsicle is finished, the stick resting on the bed next to Casey.

“Hi,” Casey says.

“Hey.” Dave smiles at Casey and stops to watch him and think for a moment. Casey knows that he went to make a phone call, so Dave _could_ tell him about Fordham and Jojo. Or he could tell him the official story about Mick and Amy. He shakes his head almost imperceptibly. “Sorry that took so long.”

Casey smiles back at Dave. “I could hear that you were right outside the door, just like you said you’d be. I’m glad you’re back, though.”

“I think we’ll stay in Austin a week or so and then call my dad or someone, make sure we can smooth things over before we head back. Sound good? I’ll make sure things are safe.”

Casey nods. “I know you will.”

Dave picks up Casey’s popsicle stick and discards it, then sits down on the bed next to Casey. “Cartoons good?”

“I think I’m missing the context for what’s happening,” Casey says, gesturing at the television. “This might be the middle of a series.”

“Oh.” Dave studies the screen for a moment, then shrugs. “Yeah, maybe so. You want me to turn them off?”

“If you want to,” Casey says, shrugging slightly. “I don’t think cartoons are supposed to be this hard to follow.”

“Yeah, probably not,” Dave agrees, picking up the remote and shutting off the television. He sets the remote down off to the side, then slowly lies back. “We should start trying to reset our body clocks or whatever,” he says, tugging gently on the back of the blanket.

Casey slides back along the bed and then curls towards Dave, still wrapped in the blanket. He rests his head against Dave’s chest and puts one arm across him. “I love you, David.”

“Love you, Case,” Dave says, putting both arms around Casey. “Feeling warmer finally?”

Casey nods and holds Dave a little tighter. “I’m sorry I made all this happen,” he whispers against Dave’s shirt. “I’m so sorry.”

Dave has to fight the laughter that bubbles up. “ _You_ made all this happen?” he finally asks incredulously. “You didn’t make this happen.” Dave did, though; four people in less than twelve hours, and he’s still not sorry.

“I’m the one who took my mom’s pills,” Casey says. “And... and I _provoke_ him, David!”

Dave scowls and tightens his arms around Casey. “Don’t say that. There is _no_ reason for him to do _anything_ to you. _None_.” He wants to add _don’t listen to your bitch of a mother_ , but he can’t admit that he talked to Amy, and Casey would be upset if he called Amy a bitch. Why, Dave isn’t really sure, because as far as he can tell, she was the superior parent only so far as not hitting Casey.

“I tried, David. I really tried. I tried to do all the stuff I was supposed to do,” Casey says quietly, pressing his face to Dave’s chest. “I just couldn’t do it right. I couldn’t do it anymore.”

“There was nothing you were supposed to do, Casey. Your dad is just sick.” Dave shrugs. “That’s just the way it is, he’s sick and you suffered for it. It’s not fair.”

“If we go back, they’re going to make me go home, aren’t they?”

“Nope. We won’t go back unless they promise you don’t have to go back to them.”

“We have to go back eventually,” Casey says, sounding sad. “Whether they promise or not. You have to graduate so you can go to college.”

“I could take my final exams next week and get a high enough grade to graduate,” Dave scoffs. “We’ll be fine.” 

“Okay. I don’t want to ruin everything for you, too.”

“You don’t ruin anything.” Dave kisses Casey’s forehead. “Understand?”

“Okay,” Casey answers quietly. He clings more tightly to Dave. “Thank you for keeping me safe.”

“Of course,” Dave says, kissing each of Casey’s cheeks and then Casey’s nose. Casey wrinkles his nose when Dave kisses it, and he laughs once. 

“That tickles,” Casey says.

“Oh yeah?” Dave does it again. “Does it?”

Casey giggles and wrinkles his nose up again. “Yes!”

“So... what else tickles?” Dave asks, grinning. 

“Um. I’m not sure.” Casey giggles more. 

Dave brushes his lips against Casey’s neck. “That?”

Casey laughs a little more. “Yes.”

“This?” Dave moves his lips to Casey’s collarbone, kissing it gently.

Casey wiggles, laughs again faintly, and says, “A little.” 

Dave slowly moves the blanket out of the way, peppering little kisses along Casey’s shoulder. “These?”

Casey sighs quietly. “Those are nice. Those don’t tickle.”

“Yeah?” Dave runs his hand down Casey’s arm. “Let me know if you get cold,” he murmurs, then kisses down Casey’s chest. Remembering the other night, he pauses and kisses Casey’s nipples, going back and forth between them. Casey makes a series of squeaky gasps and then slides one of his hands into Dave’s hair. Dave grins and moves back to Casey’s collarbone, then up Casey’s neck before putting his lips against Casey’s. 

Casey’s lips part slightly under Dave’s and he lifts his head off the bed to press his mouth against Dave’s a little harder. Dave pushes his tongue into Casey’s mouth, resting his hand gently against Casey’s cheek, and slowly shifts his weight against the lower half of Casey’s body. The blanket falls away and one of Casey’s legs wraps around Dave’s leg, his hand still in Dave’s hair and his other hand coming to rest on the back of Dave’s neck. 

“Case,” Dave whispers, pulling away just long enough to speak before returning his mouth to Casey’s. Casey holds on to Dave even tighter, moving his body against Dave’s and making an almost whining noise into Dave’s mouth. Dave holds himself up with one arm, deepening their kiss, and he moves his hips again. Casey whines again, his fingers moving through Dave’s hair. 

Dave keeps kissing Casey, occasionally moving from his mouth to his neck or collarbone and then back to Casey’s lips, gently moving against him, until Casey shudders underneath him and lets out a soft cry while Dave’s mouth is kissing Casey’s shoulder. Dave pulls back a bit, smiling down at Casey. 

“Okay?”

Casey’s face is pink and he stares up at Dave with wide eyes for a moment before he nods. 

“We’ll get some sleep,” Dave says, still smiling. “Sleep at night, this time.”

“Okay, David,” Casey says quietly. 

“Case,” Dave whispers, lying down beside Casey and ignoring the state of his clothes. “I love you.”

“I love you, David.”


	3. The One With the Handcuffs

Even though everyone in Lima knows they’re coming, Dave still likes traveling at night. They stop below Dayton and get a snack, and Dave puts his own license plates back on, dumping all the extra plates in a dumpster. He notes the mile marker and grimaces as they drive. Less than an hour back to Lima; they’ll arrive around ten. 

“He promised?” Casey asks again. He’s been pressed against Dave’s side since they left the motel, and they keep having the same conversation every thirty minutes or so.

“He promised, babe,” Dave says, nodding. “Everything’ll be fine. They just have to close out your medical records first, okay?” 

“I don’t want to go back to the hospital. I just want to stay with you,” Casey says quietly. Dave is sure that if the truck weren’t moving, he’d be able to feel Casey shaking.

“Yeah, me too, but it won’t take long, Dad said.” Casey hasn’t slept much for a few days, not since they left Austin, taking a different route. Even when they stopped at motels, Dave knows Casey didn’t sleep much, if at all, because he spent the time waking Dave up with kisses and almost frantic moments that usually led to more kisses or just _more_.

“Okay, David.” Casey’s hands tighten around Dave’s hand, but he doesn’t say anything else as they approach Lima. 

Dave drives into the parking deck, pulling out their two small bags before they walk into the hospital. He’s not sure where they were expecting them, but he doesn’t particularly care. He puts the blankets under one arm and throws the other one around Casey’s shoulders, steering him inside. 

What happens next is a bit of a blur. Several people in dark uniforms approach, and Dave has just enough time to turn to look at Casey before one of them identifies them as police, requesting Dave and Casey to keep their hands where the officers can see them. Before Dave really processes anything, there are handcuffs on both he and Casey, an officer is leading Casey down a hall, and Dave looks back over his shoulder at the blankets on the floor as he’s propelled towards the elevators. 

“David!” Casey screams as the officer drags him down the hall, kicking and trying to break free. “David!”

Dave doesn’t know what to say. He probably should tell Casey to calm down, but he doesn’t want to calm down, either. He eyes the three officers around him, then shakes his head as they stop in front of the elevator door. 

“This is _not_ what we were assured would happen,” Dave says coldly. 

“It’ll get sorted out at the station,” one of the officers says. The elevator doors open, and the officers direct Dave inside. He can still hear Casey screaming as the doors close again. 

Dave rolls his eyes and snorts, but decides it’s probably better not to talk to them any more. He knows about Mick and Amy being dead because Paul told him. He does _not_ know about Fordham being dead or Jojo disappearing. Paul is the only person he’s talked to from Lima since they left. He repeats those facts to himself, over and over, as they go down the elevator, out to a squad car, and then to the police station. 

They put him in a room with a table and chairs—an interrogation room, his brain suggests, based on television shows—and he waits for five minutes before the door opens again. A woman in uniform and a man in a suit walk in, closing the door behind them, and they both sit across from Dave. 

“I’m Officer Kowalski with the Juvenile Bureau,” the woman says, then nods at the man in the suit.

“I’m Detective Macintosh,” the man says. “Why don’t you talk to us a little bit about what happened with your friend Casey?”

“Am I under _arrest_?” Dave asks incredulously.

“Right now we’re trying to determine whether or not there’s a reason to charge you,” Detective Macintosh says. “First, we’re trying to figure out exactly what happened and why.”

“Uh-huh.” Dave frowns. “How’s Casey? When can I see him?”

“Casey left the hospital approximately fourteen hours into a seventy-two hour mandatory observation period. He’s being assessed. I can’t give you any more information than that,” Macintosh says. 

“Did anyone tell him yet?” Dave asks. “Because I really don’t think they should tell him about his parents while he’s alone. If you won’t let me be there, can you call my dad?”

“Your father is aware of the situation,” Macintosh says.

“Yeah, I bet,” Dave snorts. “Dad said everything would be fine, not that I’d end up in handcuffs. Handcuffs because I didn’t want him to go back to that house with _his_ dad.”

“David—”

“Call me Dave,” Dave says tersely.

“Okay, Dave,” Officer Kowalski agrees. “Dave, when you say that you didn’t want Casey to go back to his house with his dad, can you elaborate on that?”

“His dad beats—beat, sorry—him. I don’t know.” Dave takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. “I didn’t know it was as bad as it was. I didn’t know for that long before. I had told our guidance counselor, but after... after I found Casey, beat up and everything, you understand.” He looks back up and opens his eyes. “I couldn’t let his dad hurt him again.”

“Of course not,” she agrees. “I do remember when I was young, expecting immediate results. Thursday to Monday must have seemed like a very long time for something that important.”

“Yes, exactly.” Dave seizes on her sympathy. “Nothing had happened, except for the situation getting worse. I have to admit.” He frowns deliberately. “I was relieved when my dad told me Casey’s dad was dead.”

“Understandable, if inappropriate,” Kowalski murmurs, turning to look at the detective.

Macintosh nods. “Certainly understandable, not wanting to let your...” he pauses for a moment and gives Dave a pointed look before continuing, “ _friend_ return to an abusive home situation. But why take him from the hospital before the observation period was over? Surely you, of all people, were aware of the precariousness of his health situation.”

“I panicked,” Dave says, striving for an abashed tone. “He was so scared; he thought they’d make him go home the next morning or something. All I could think about is keeping him safe.” He makes eye contact deliberately with Kowalski. “I love him. I couldn’t let him keep being so scared. He finally slept after we left.” In the back of Dave’s mind, he acknowledges that he’s keeping track of what’s working and what isn’t, because he also has to acknowledge that it’s probably not the last time in his life he’ll be questioned about something.

If he’s very, very honest, probably more deaths.

“So, why Austin?” Macintosh asks, his tone suddenly shifting to conversational. 

Dave shrugs exaggeratedly. “Case gets so cold. I don’t know if you looked at his chart, but he can’t weigh much. His parents didn’t feed him enough. I wanted to go someplace warm, and then I remembered an article I read online about Austin’s music scene. Seemed like it’d be friendlier for us than some other parts of the south.” It’s the first thing Dave’s said that is   
entirely factual, without any hidden lies.

“Did Casey tell you he _wanted_ to leave the hospital?” Macintosh asks, shifting his tone yet again, back to investigatory. “The surveillance footage shows you carrying him into the parking deck.”

Dave frowns again. “I had to. He couldn’t even walk. He was begging me to get him away from there, both from the hospital and Lima. But he was so weak.”

“Of course,” Kowalski says, almost warmly. “Obviously, all of this could have been avoided if you or your father had known about Casey’s parents.”

“But what about Casey’s health?” Macintosh says, giving Kowalski a sharp look. “You took an injured, ill minor out of the hospital roughly twelve hours after a suicide attempt.”

“An attempt that wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for his father,” Dave says sadly. “I know it wasn’t the best decision, but yeah. We both panicked.”

Kowalski nods. “We’re just going to go back out here, Dave. One of us or someone else will be back shortly.”

It ends up being another two hours, but Dave is released and when he walks into the lobby, his dad is waiting with apologies for not realizing they’d be cuffed immediately. “Do you want to go get some sleep?”

“Can we go over to St. Rita’s and check on Casey?” Dave asks. 

“This late?” Paul asks, then chuckles and shakes his head. “Of course. We’ll go over there now.”

When they get to the hospital, though, they won’t let Dave see Casey. He knows which room is Casey’s, because there’s only one with a uniformed police officer outside of it, and only after Paul talks to the charge nurse and the officer do they agree Paul can go peek in the door, at least. 

Paul returns to Dave with a deep scowl. “They have _restraints_ on that boy, David!” He wheels to the charge nurse. “What have you done to him?”

“Sir, calm down,” the charge nurse says. “Nobody has done him any harm. We’re trying to keep him from hurting himself.”

“Did you drug him? He looks drugged!” Paul says, still frowning. 

“He’s been given a sedative,” the nurse explains. “He kept screaming and we were afraid he was going to hurt himself on the restraints.”

“Because you shouldn’t have restrained him!” Dave explodes finally, and it’s only his dad’s hand on his chest that keeps him from continuing.

The nurse continues to address Paul, ignoring Dave, though she does take a slight step backward. “He kicked the police officer and bit one of the orderlies,” she says. “And as I said before, he wouldn’t stop screaming and trying to escape.”

Dave fights hard to suppress the grin that wants to take over his face. _Way to go, Case._

Paul turns his back on the nurse and the officer. “It’s the middle of the night, David. Let’s go home and I’ll start calling about what we can do legally as soon as the sun’s up.” Dave lets himself be steered out of the hospital and into his truck, and it’s only his dad’s presence in his car, behind him, that keeps Dave from turning the truck off and staying in the deck. It’s Casey’s presence that keeps him from driving away from Lima altogether. 

Paul doesn’t go to work the next morning, and Dave doesn’t go to school, just drifts around the house, waiting for good news from his dad. When it’s time for lunch at McKinley, Dave pulls out his real cell phone and calls Hudson. 

“Karofsky?” Hudson says. He sounds practically thrilled to hear from Dave. “Are you guys back? How’s Casey?”

“They won’t let me see him,” Dave admits. “We got cuffed practically as soon as we got into the hospital last night. I spent two and a half, three hours at the police station, but then when Dad took me back to the hospital, there was an officer posted.” He swallows. “Dad looked at him, said they had him restrained and sedated.”

“Fuck,” Hudson mutters. “ _Why?_ Shit, man, that’s not good. Not, like, at _all_.” He makes a disgruntled noise. “But hey, they let you go after a couple hours?”

“He kicked a cop,” Dave says proudly. “But yeah, once I explained that I had panicked about Casey having to go back to live with Mick, the officer was really sympathetic. The detective not quite as much, but still. It worked out fine there.”

“Good, good. What’s gonna happen to him? Are they gonna let him stay with you and your dad or what?”

“Dad’s been on the phone all morning. Hopefully they’ll have something decided soon. If not, well.” Dave shrugs. “I’ve done all this before, I can do it again.”

Hudson doesn’t answer for a long moment. Finally, he says, “Yeah. Yeah, I guess you could.”

“No one knows we talked,” Dave says more quietly. “So, you know. No worries there.”

Hudson laughs, a little nervously. “Good to know, man. You’ll let me know when you guys get him out of that place? Is there anything you need me to do?”

“Nah, hopefully it’ll be later today, and we’ll be back at school on... what day is it today?”

“Tuesday, dude. It’s actually the middle of PFLAG. Guess you don’t want me to tell them you say hey?”

Dave laughs, and once he gets started, he can’t stop laughing. “Hell, why the fuck not?” he finally says. “Sorry I pulled you out of the meeting.”

“Glad to hear that the both of you are more or less alright,” Hudson says. “If they don’t let him out of that hospital, you let me know. We’ll make it happen.”

“Thanks, man. I’ll let you know.” Dave ends the call, picturing Hudson striding back into the meeting and making some kind of announcement.

It’s almost five o’clock before Paul has any kind of good news, and the good news isn’t as good as Dave had hoped for. 

“I’ll pick up the paperwork at eight,” Paul says. “We’ll get Casey right after that.”

“Just a few more hours, then.”

“No. Eight in the morning, David. I’m sorry. It’s the best that I could do.”

“Fuck!” Dave growls, barely restraining himself from punching a hole in the drywall. “I’m going to go for a run. Then I’m going to go to bed, I guess.” Paul just nods.

Dave wakes up, without an alarm, at 5:30 am, and he’s sitting in the kitchen waiting for Paul by 7:15. The paperwork doesn’t take as long as Dave is afraid it will, which means that they get to the door to Casey’s room at 8:34 am. 

“Take the restraints off,” Dave says to a passing nurse as he walks into the room and gasps.

The nurse looks like he’s about to argue, but then he gives Dave another look and nods, unfastening the restraints from Casey’s wrists. Casey looks out of it, staring at the far wall like a zombie, not even turning to look at Dave. 

“Shit, Case,” Dave mutters, glaring at the hospital personnel nearby when he sees the raw skin on Casey’s wrist. Without comment, he gets Casey dressed and picks him up, scowling at the nurse a final time as they leave. Casey stirs a little when they get to the truck, and Dave shakes his head. “It’s okay, babe. We’re going to go rest, okay? Just you and me.”

Casey slowly leans against Dave without saying anything, and Dave can feel him trembling. Dave drives carefully back to his house, not wanting to jostle Casey, not when he’s so doped up. He parks in the driveway after his dad goes into the garage, then goes around to help Casey into the house. 

“We can set up the room across from yours, David,” Paul says as they enter the kitchen, but Dave shakes his head. 

“We’ll stay in the guest room,” Dave says without even looking at Paul as he heads towards the guest room. “Bed’s bigger, and it’s got the bathroom attached to it.”

“David,” Paul says. “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea. I know things were different while you were gone, but Casey is only fifteen, and, well.”

Dave shakes his head. “That’s how it has to be.” He does stop and turn around. “Oh, and we need to start thinking.”

“Thinking about what?” Paul sighs. “And stop trying to change the subject.”

“How we’re going to all move to Atlanta this summer,” Dave says calmly. “And I’m not changing the subject. At least you won’t have to get a three bedroom place down there.” Dave turns back towards the guest room and kicks the door shut behind them as they enter it, without waiting to hear Paul’s response. 

He places Casey on the bed, then lies down beside him. “Case. Babe, it’s safe now. Just you and me.”

Casey curls up with his knees to his chin, eyes still open and staring. Dave pets Casey’s head, then slowly pulls off the outermost layer of Casey’s clothing. 

“Babe. It’s just me. Casey.”

Casey scrunches his eyes closed and shakes his head almost imperceptibly. “No,” he whispers, his voice so hoarse that Dave can barely hear him. 

“I promise. My dad got papers and everything.” Dave shifts and pulls off his own jacket. “We’re safe, Case. We did it.”

“No. They _lied_ ,” Casey croaks. “They lied, they lied.” Dave can tell from Casey’s voice just what they meant about Casey screaming, and he imagines hours of screaming the way Casey screamed when they first arrived at the hospital. 

“Probably,” Dave agrees. “But I didn’t. And I’m not lying now. Trust me, babe.” He kisses Casey’s forehead. “Trust me. Let’s get a little bit of sleep.” He moves his lips to Casey’s nose, kissing the tip. Casey wrinkles his nose up slightly.

“Tickles,” he says softly, and he uncurls his body enough to move closer to Dave, gripping Dave’s clothes and burying his face against Dave’s chest.

“Yeah.” Dave smiles and tightens his arms around Casey, closing his own eyes. “Rest, Case.”

Dave isn’t sure how long they’ve been asleep when he wakes up, Casey on top of him, peppering Dave’s face and neck with kisses. Casey’s hands are in Dave’s hair on the sides of his head, and every few kisses, Dave can hear Casey whispering, “David.” 

“Mmm, Case,” Dave mumbles. “Hi.” He adjusts his arms, tightening them around Casey’s waist. 

Casey’s body moves against Dave’s frantically, and Dave moves with him, occasionally kissing Casey’s mouth or cheek or neck. Casey whimpers and gasps, and Dave feels hot tears falling on his face, even as Casey rocks his body against Dave's even faster.

“Don’t leave me, don’t leave me,” Casey starts saying, between noises. “Don’t leave me again. Please don’t leave me again.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Dave promises. “It’s you and me, babe. Nobody’s leaving anyone, whatever it takes.” He kisses Casey again, and his mind goes back to Monday night at the police station. Whatever it takes, he’ll keep Casey safe, and keep Casey with him, whatever that means. “I love you. We’re safe.”

Casey cries out, his fingers tightening in Dave’s hair, and his whole body shudders against Dave’s. Dave pushes up against Casey, his hands fisting in Casey’s shirt as he comes, his arms going slack afterwards. Casey’s hands drop away from Dave’s hair, his arm loosely circling Dave’s neck as he buries his face against Dave’s chest.

“I love you, David. I love you so much.”

“Everything’s good,” Dave murmurs. “You and me, Case. I love you.”


End file.
